


Accidents

by Servena



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Anger, Blood and Violence, Death Threats, Domestic Violence, Gen, Protectiveness, Revenge, Threats of Violence, Violence, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-04 12:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15841335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: Her fist collides with his cheek and he stumbles backwards.





	Accidents

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by another author's work on domestic violence. I wrote this to channel my anger into something productive, so that's probably what it reads like... Don't read if the topic of domestic violence could trigger you!

He opens the door after the second ring. He looks surprised to see her, though maybe he even has an idea why she is here, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. Instead her fist collides with his cheek and he stumbles backwards. Another hit and he falls down onto the floor. She steps inside after him and pulls the door shut.

He is just getting back on his hands and knees, sputtering "What...?" and looking at her like she has gone completely crazy. Her boot connects with his side. "Stay down." He tries to get up a second time and she kicks him again. Maybe she feels one of his ribs crack, but it does nothing to calm her anger. "Stay. Down."

He doesn't try a third time. His breath is coming in gasps and there is blood running down his chin from where he bit his tongue. "Why...?" he sputters.

She sinks her hand into his hair and pulls up his head from the floor. "You know why."

"No..." he moans and struggles against her grip.

She slams his head into the floorboard. "You know why." And when he doesn't say anything: "TELL ME WHY!"

"It was - an accident" he brings out.

"Oh, it was an accident?" Her voice is soft and sickly sweet now. She leans forward to whisper in his ear. "What was an accident, Alex? The time she fell down the stairs? Or when she ran against an open door twice in one week? Or when she stumbled over the corner of the rug? When she got her fingers trapped in a drawer? Tell me, Alex, which one? Because there have been a lot of _accidents_ lately."

“She’s just –“ He doesn’t get any further.

“Don’t you dare say ‘clumsy’ or I swear I will break your arm”, she hisses. She emphasizes this by pulling his right arm onto his back until she’s sure that it hurts. “I know that it was you. I’ve known for a while. So don’t give me that bullshit!”

His demeanor changes instantly. "I'm sorry", he whimpers, "I'm sorry."

She tightens her grip. "Not good enough."

"I'll do better, I promise!” His voice grows high with desperation. “I never meant to hurt her!"

"But you _did_! You did it a hundred times and every time you're sorry and every time you promise you'll never do it again and every time she doesn't leave you because she believes in the good in you but THERE IS NONE! You don't deserve her, you don't deserve to lick the floor that she walks on!"

“I know”, he whimpers. “I know! I will –“

“No, I will tell you what you will do.”, she interrupts him loudly. “And you better listen carefully because I will not repeat myself.” She lets go of his arm. Slowly he gets back on his feet. She can see in his eyes how badly he wants to retaliate, to close his hands around her neck and not let go. But he doesn’t dare to try.

"You will pack your things. You will leave this apartment without your keys and never come back. You will never contact her or anyone she knows ever again. You will disappear from her life as if you had never existed." She fixes her gaze firmly on him and makes sure he looks back at her before she continues. “If you violate any of these commands, I will kill you. I don’t care what it will cost me, I will eradicate you from this earth. Do you understand?”

He nods slowly.

“Good.” She shoves him into the direction of the bedroom. “Start packing.”

She keeps her eyes on him, leaning in the doorframe while he stuffs things into a worn knapsack. Her hand still stings from the initial hit, the skin over her knuckles red, but unbroken.

It feels good.


End file.
